Getting Used To
by JougenNoTsuki
Summary: He smirked to himself, wondering what this petite woman would exactly look like in five months time.


Title: Getting Used To

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Dick Wolf all rightful owners of the 'Law & Order' brand. So don't sue!

A/N I: This is my first PUBLISHED CI story, I've written about four or five other stories that are far-too horrendous for the world to read.

A/N II: Updated 11/29/06 // A name change and a re-write. I liked this story before, but thought it could use a little face lift. Since this _was _my first CI story, I felt maybe I could go back and write the characters a little better. And their relationship. In any case - it's updated.

Summary: He smirked to himself, wondering what this petite woman would exactly look like in five months time.

- - -

_Oh, God, he can't be serious._

Alex Eames watched helplessly as her partner began to climb the narrow set of stairs in the run-down, graffiti-stained apartment building. She couldn't blame him for leaving her in his dust, what with his nose buried in his leather portfolio reading such-and-such about the suspect's family history. She was usually right on his heels, she'd learned over the years to pick up her pace, and he'd learned to slow his down. A happy medium. Such was their partnership.

Except now nearing the top of the stairs, Robert Goren was oblivious to the absence of his four-months-pregnant partner who still fumbling around the first few steps, having little luck and taking no risk. Never one to break his train of through, she realized she would have to or it would take him several more seconds or at least a few good strides before he realized she'd disappeared completely.

"Bobby..." she sang, cat-like with an annoyed tease. Very womanly.

His head sprung up and he swung his large figure around much too gracefully. And there she was, both hands glued to the handrail she really should not have been touching, easing herself up a step at a time. Four months and that barely-noticeable belly had swelled into a rounded bump, just cumbersome enough to start getting in her way. He smirked to himself, wondering what this petite woman would exactly look like in five months time.

Suddenly the wry smirk evaporated and worry and concern took its place. He threw the portfolio shut and stuffed it under his arm, scrambling back down the narrow staircase to meet his partner.

"I'm so sorry, Eames-" he began, taking her arm in his hand, and pulling her gently away from the wall.

"Guess this will take some getting used to," she laughed mildly, pursing her lips together as she took his thick arm into her hand, "For both of us."

He just nodded in that stoic Bobby way, wrapping an arm around her still tiny waist and bracing his arm for her support.

"God," she snorted more at herself than at him, "Good for you this is my last case. I'm already getting fat and helpless."

"Eames!" he scolded her quietly, "Don't say that. And you're not..."

Another step up, they were just about halfway there. She smirked up at him, his eyes fixed on the stairs.

"Please. It's not like _I _don't know what I look like. Sorry Bobby, but I win this round."

"Not that." he laughed quietly, squelching her faux victory and looking down at her, "That it's good for me."

He nudged her up another stair and she slid her fingers down his arm and to his hand, wrapping her fingers around his and giving him a small, reassuring squeeze. Nothing else was needed, nothing else to be said. And they both understood and didn't say anything else of it. They reached the top of the stairs and his hands fell away from her, running once through his messy dark hair before swooping to his arm and retrieving the leather portfolio.

"Thanks." she sighed, resting her hand on her back.

He just mumbled a "Sure, Eames" and was off in the direction of the apartment number of which he had scribbled down on a crumpled sheet of paper. Giving her back one more stretch and her badge a quick adjustment, she followed him down the hallway towards the suspect's apartment.


End file.
